


Fever Dreamin'

by orphan_account



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream gets sick and is bad at being sick, No shipping, Platonic Cuddling, Sickfic, That's it, dreamwastaken - Freeform, georgenotfound - Freeform, sapnap - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26371909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This was great. Just fucking fantastic. He flies up to England to see his best friend, only to get horribly sick two days into his trip.--No shipping, just bros being dudes. Bros can be soft with each other stop
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 342





	Fever Dreamin'

Dream sniffed, a wet cough leaving his mouth soon after.   
This was great. Just fucking fantastic. He flies up to England to see his best friend, only to get horribly sick two days into his trip. He didn't even know what had happened- he felt completely fine on the flight and for the first couple days, and then suddenly, now he woke up with a migraine, an ache in his bones, and a stuffy nose that just wouldn't quit. He felt absolutely awful, both physically and mentally- he just wanted to hang out with his friend and see him for the first time in real life, but the universe just couldn't throw him a fucking bone for once.   
He heard George humming to himself in the next room, some song he knew but couldn't name, his voice hushed so as not to wake his friend. It was still morning, light seeping in through drawn shades and hitting the floor peacefully, but the jet lag told Dream it was three am even when he knew it was eight. With a soft groan, he sat up, putting his head in his hand when he felt a spell of dizziness hit him. He didn't want to worry George- this was a trip they both were looking forward to for a while, and him being sick would put a damper on their plans. So Dream resolved to keep quiet about his condition.  
That, of course, didn't go according to plan.

He stumbled out of the room, a yawn leaving his mouth that popped his ears, and George looked over from where he was preparing breakfast in the kitchen.   
"Good morning, Dream," He said, looking back down to the onions he was chopping. "I wasn't expecting you up so early."

"Yeah, well," Dream started, sliding into the breakfast nook in George's small kitchen and laying his chin in his arms, watching George cook. "I guess my brain is adapting to the time difference."

He winced at the sound of his own voice. It was deeper than usual, with a slight nasally tone, but he hoped George would chalk it up to sleep. The lights were too bright, making him wince. He eventually just closed his eyes to resolve the issue and listened to the satisfying cutting sound the knife in George's hand made while it slid through the onion and hit the cutting board, repeated over and over. 

"Are you feeling okay, Dream? You don't sound so hot." Dream opened his eyes to see that the other man had turned around to look at him. "Or look so hot. You're pale."

Dream plastered his normal shit-eating grin on his face, sitting normally and putting his hands up like he was being arrested. "It's probably because the sun is so lacking here. My tan is getting nerfed in this cold, George!"

But, of course, George wasn't having any of his shit. With a frown, he wiped off his hands and almost rushed over, putting the back of his hand on Dream's forehead. Dream tried to pull back, but he felt the coolness of his friend's hand and found that leaning into it felt so much better. 

"You're burning up..." George muttered. Dream hummed in response, biting back a protest when George pulled his hand away from his face. "I'm going to get a thermometer."

"No, George, wait. I'm fine."

But his friend was already gone, down the hallway and in the bathroom rummaging around a drawer for a thermometer he hadn't used in probably ages. Dream groaned quietly and slumped down onto the table. He was embarrassed. This wasn't supposed to happen- this was supposed to be the best trip he'd ever taken, the best time of his life because he'd finally been able to see George in real life for the first time. The expression George had when he saw Dream's face was priceless- all wide eyes and agape mouth. 

"I wasn't expecting you to look like- well- that!" He'd responded when teased about it.

"How were you expecting me to look?" Dream had chuckled back.

"I don't know, but not like that!" Dream's signature wheeze followed soon after, and they'd laughed the entire drive home. 

Now, he didn't feel all that much like laughing. He coughed a couple of times, his lungs feeling wet and full of thick phlegm. He looked up when George padded back into the room, pushing a button on the thermometer before shoving it in Dream's face.

"Put this under your tongue."

Dream took it. "I know how these stupid things work, George," He muttered under his breath, putting it in his mouth and leaning to once again put his chin on his hands. He closed his eyes and almost drifted, but was pulled back into reality when the thermometer beeped. George gently pulled it from his lips and looked at it, frowning when he read the number. 

"38.7," He read aloud.

"Translation, please? I'm an American."

George didn't laugh, even though Dream had meant the comment as a half-joke. "101.7."

"Oh."

There was a slight silence before Dream suddenly erupted into a coughing fit. George huffed with worry and slid into the booth next to Dream, putting his hand on the other's back and rubbing in circles as the other's coughs subsided. Dream groaned, leaning his head on George's shoulder.

"Sorry," He croaked, coughing slightly into his fist. 

"You've nothing to apologize for," George responded matter-of-factly, sliding out of the booth and leaving Dream with nowhere to put his head. "Now come along, you're going back to bed."

"But I'm hungry!" Dream responded, a whiney, joking tone to his voice. He felt satisfied when he saw a smile grace his friend's face. 

"I'll bring you breakfast when it's ready. Now come on."

Dream rolled his eyes and slid out of the booth to follow George, stumbling for a couple of steps before finding his footing. He shooed George's hand away when he tried to help steady him and made a point not to meet his friend's brown eyes. 

They walk into the bedroom and George sits Dream on the bed, watching him with a concerned gaze. Dream looked up at him with a smile. "I'm fine, George. Really."

"Okay, Dream," He responded. "Keep telling yourself that. I'm going to go finish breakfast. You should lay down and go back to sleep- you look like you need it. I'll wake you up when it's finished, okay?"

Dream watched his friend, studying him, as he always did. George didn't look like he was going to budge on this. Dream sighed. "Fine. But wake me up when you're done, please."

He repeated what George had said, hoping to drill in the brit's skull just how much he wanted to be woken. George smiled at him and nodded. "Okay."

And so Dream laid back onto the pillows, his eyes almost immediately drooping closed with exhaustion. He felt the comforter being pulled up over his shoulders and he sighed slightly, snuggling into them. He was cold, anyway. "G'nite, Dream," He heard as he slipped into sleep, not having the energy to quip back that it was already morning.   
He fell into a restless slumber, almost aware of his surroundings while also drifting in a dreamless limbo. His mind felt increasingly muddled as time went on and he couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since George had left the room. He would fall fully asleep for a few moments and then his body would jerk itself awake after he felt like he was falling, or a dribble of snot left his nose. He groaned- he knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep. Not like this, anyway. Despite the blanket over him, his body still wracked itself with chills, and his head just pounded worse with each new minute.   
The quiet creak of door hinges alerted him to another's presence and he peeled his eyes open, looking up dazedly at his friend, who was walking into the room with a plate. 

"Hey, Dream," George said quietly. He'd walked in to see Dream shivering under his covers, looking even worse than he had before. His cheeks were flushed, hands shaking as they curled into the blanket tightly, as if the man were in pain. When those green, green eyes forced themselves open, he saw a bleary film over them, making Dream look more disoriented than awake. He put the plate on the nightstand and sat down on the bed. "Are you still hungry?"

Dream wordlessly nodded and pushed himself up, not protesting when George propped the pillows up behind his back. George once again put his hand up to his friend's forehead, 'tsk'ing when he felt that Dream's fever burned hotter. The fact that Dream was fully, shamelessly, leaning into George's hand now instead of trying to hide it was even more concerning. He let out a pitiful whine when he pulled his hand away, too, only showing how bad he truly felt.   
George picked up the plate and Dream reached for it, taking it and a fork and starting, slowly to eat the eggs. George noticed how Dream seemed to stare off into space as he chewed, not really paying any attention to his surroundings. George was, frankly, really fucking worried. He wondered if they should go to the doctor, or see if they could just wait whatever Dream was coming down with out. He needed to treat the symptoms, of course, but he didn't know whether further actions were necessary.

"Hey," he heard a voice call to him weakly. "Are you okay?" 

George almost laughed. Was he okay? Dream was the one who looked delirious. "Yeah, I'm fine. Did you finish?"

Dream nodded, handing George his now empty plate and sitting back onto the pillows, his eyes fluttering.   
"Are you going back to sleep?" George asked, keeping his voice low. Dream probably had a headache and, honestly, he didn't want to exacerbate it. 

"No," Dream responded, fighting to keep his eyes open. "I need to... get up and ready for the day."   
George didn't miss the pause in his words where he seemingly couldn't find the words for what he wanted to say. Dream looked exhausted- this illness was probably running its course, and fighting it off was tiring. 

"We don't have anything too pressing planned for today, Dream, so we can take a day off. You need to recover." Dream groaned in protest, but George knew he was going to get his way. "Now, what movie would you like to watch while you get better? I know you don't want to go back to sleep, so we can at least relax while you're awake."

Dream studied him again, his eyes foggy and half-lidded, but analytical all the same. His expression was unreadable, as it always was, and even though Dream was at his most vulnerable, George felt unnerved by his gaze all the same.   
"...Mulan, I guess."

George smiled and nodded, standing. As he walked away, he felt a tug on the bottom of his hoodie and turned to see Dream staring at him with something akin to anxiety. "Where're you going?" He asked, his voice almost slurred. 

"To get my laptop so we can watch the movie. I'll be right back, I promise." George gently pried Dream's hand from his sweatshirt and held onto it for a couple of moments, silently assuring Dream that he wouldn't be gone for more than a few minutes.   
He left the room, a guilty pit in his stomach and picked up his laptop, only to see that his phone buzzed. 

Sapnap- yo i know its morning for you whatre you doin today

Sapnap- you even up yet lol

Sapnap- you always wake up early,,, yall okay?

Sapnap- gogy?

George rolled his eyes fondly at his friend's messages.

George- Yeah, I'm fine. Dream got sick, so I might be a little bit MIA today. 

Sapnap- oh shit good luck with that lol when he crashes he crashes hard

Sapnap- this one time he got sick and he called me and wouldnt me get off the phone until he finally passed tf out, super clingy

Sapnap- not that its his fault of course

George- Good to know. Thank you, Sapnap.

Sapnap- text me w updates

George closed out of the messenger app and sighed, putting his phone in his pocket and leaving the living room, heading back to the bedroom where Dream was sitting up, staring off into space while looking at the threads in the comforter. 

"Dream? Hey, I'm back," He said, putting a smile on his face. His friend looked up, blinking the film from his eyes to no avail, and gave a small, forced grin back. 

"Welcome back," 

George nodded in response and slid in next to his friend, opening up his laptop and logging in. He pulled up Mulan rather quickly and started the movie, only for Dream to quickly nod off on his shoulder. The other man's head was a soft weight, warm (almost too warm, feverishly so) and comfortable. George only hoped he was comfortable as well.   
He had thought ahead- he'd predicted Dream would fall asleep like this, of course, so he pulled his earbuds out of his pocket and stopped the movie, logging into his editing software and selecting the latest video that needed to be finished. It was that plug-in that Dream had suggested: the one where the ender dragon spawned every time you wanted to travel between anywhere. Kind of like a boss for every stage of the game. It had been fun.  
As he put his earbuds in, he chanced a glimpse over at his friend, who slept peacefully- or as peacefully as he could having been as sick as he was- on his shoulder and sighed, brushing the bangs from the man's face.

And with that, he got back to editing, trying to ignore the concern he held in the back of his head and nestled in his chest. Dream would be fine. And if this close proximity got George sick as well, so be it. Things would turn out okay, and they would be back to seeing the sights of England in due time. For now, though, they just needed to rest.


End file.
